January 2011
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i am going to buy you a sandwich.
To Myself
You are riding the bus again burrowing into the blackness of Interstate 80, the sole passenger
with an overhead light on. And I am with you. I’m the interminable fields you can’t see,
the little lights off in the distance (in one of those rooms we are living) and I am the rain
and the others all around you, and the loneliness you love, and the universe that loves you...
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